At the northern crest of the Suir escarpment, where the land drops away towards the river valley below, the old parish church of Fenoagh has subsided into the earth so thoroughly that what remains is essentially a memory in grass. The rectangular outline of the building, roughly 14.7 metres east to west and 6.4 metres north to south, survives only as a low, grass-covered wall rising no more than 40 centimetres in places, with scattered cairn material suggesting the former presence of something more substantial. The graveyard enclosing it is circular, nearly 42 metres across, defined by a stone-faced bank and hedge. That circular form is worth pausing over: it often indicates a site of considerable antiquity, predating the more regular enclosures associated with medieval ecclesiastical planning.

What drew antiquarian attention to Fenoagh was not the ruin itself but something that has since vanished entirely. In 1860 or 1861, a correspondent named W. R. Blackett reported the presence of a possible ogham stone at the site. Ogham is an early medieval script, used primarily in Ireland from around the 4th to the 7th centuries, in which letters are represented by a series of strokes cut along the edge of a stone. Blackett's stone was never successfully read or interpreted, and by 1868 or 1869 it had disappeared. The scholar R. A. S. Macalister, who catalogued ogham inscriptions across Ireland in his 1909 paper on stones near Clonmel and Carrick-on-Suir and again in his 1945 Corpus inscriptionum insularum Celticarum, concluded that the stone was unlikely to have been genuine at all. Whether it was misidentified, lost, removed, or simply never what Blackett thought it was, the episode leaves a small unresolved footnote in the site's record.

The graveyard contains headstones dating from the late 18th to the mid-19th century, but one stands apart: a stone commemorating James Bryan, dated 1701, pushing the confirmed burial history of the site back more than a century earlier than most of what survives. It is a quiet place whose interest lies precisely in what has gone, whether that is the walls of the church, the supposed ogham stone, or the fuller life of the community that once gathered here on the ridge above the Suir.